


Feeding the demons.

by Gge2016



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, Anorexia, Bulimia, Depression, Eating Disorders, Friends to Lovers, Hiatus, M/M, Pre-Hiatus (Fall Out Boy), Self Confidence Issues, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-16 23:49:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8122333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gge2016/pseuds/Gge2016
Summary: The tension between Pete and Patrick was growing by the second. What happens when Pete finally snaps and says something that really hurts Patrick?What will happen when Patrick takes desperate measures to change himself?...ON HIATUS!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is set right before the hiatus started. 
> 
> Please comment and tell me what you think!

(Patrick's POV) 

I've been in the studio for almost 6 hours trying to record a song, but I can't seem to reach the right notes tonight. 

Andy and Joe left long ago, saying they couldn't listen to Pete and I argue any longer. 

Now it's just Pete and I in the studio. It's almost 1:00am, I just want to finish this fucking song and leave. 

"I Need to take a brake." I muttered to Pete stepping out of the recording booth and grabbing a glass of water. 

I have a massive headache. I've been singing way to long, my voice it going hoarse, and my throat feels raw. 

"Are you done yet?" Pete huffed standing in the doorway with an annoyed look on his face. 

"Dude come on, it's 1:00am, I've been singing for hours, my throat is killing me. Can we just try again tomorrow?" I asked running a hand over my face sighing.

"If you would just sing that one damn part we would be done." Pete said staring at me, his lips pressed into a thin line. 

"Did you not just hear me?" I replied shortly, setting my cup down a little harder then necessary.

"I'm tired, my head is pounding, my throat is on fire. I need stop for awhile." I said walking back into the recording room the grab my jacket. 

"You know it's not that hard to sing Patrick. You've been pissing me off lately. All you do is whine and complain about everything, and when you're not doing that you're bossy and controlling." Pete sneered. 

"You don't have to be such an asshole, you know. All I said is I need to stop for the night. I'm fucking tired and my lungs feel like there're going to collapse." I said shrugging my jacket on trying to ignore how much his words just hurt me. 

"Maybe you should lose some goddamn weight then." Pete snapped stepping closer to me. 

I sucked in a sharp breath and stared at him wide eyed. He's the one who was always reassuring me that my weight didn't mean anything, that I'm not defined by how I look. 

"Then you could sing without sounding like you're dying, maybe our album wouldn't have sounded like shit." Pete said in a short voice. 

My heart dropped through my stomach.

Pete's face morphed from anger, to shock, and then to horror when he realized what he had said. 

"Patrick..." Pete said with wide eyes taking a step closer to me. 

I stepped away from him and tried to ignore the tear that rolled down my cheek. 

"I'm sorry." I choked out walking past Pete, staring at me feet.

I walked down the hallway in at an oddly calm pace, with the Pete's words running through my head.

_Fat. Fat. Fat._

"Patrick stop!" I heard Pete say and then his heavy foot steps following me. 

I kept me head down and kept walking. Pete's shoes came into my view and I could hear his heavy breathing. 

He reached out and grabbed my arm, stopping me. I didn't turn to face him. 

I don't want him to see the tears pouring out of my eyes. I've already been embarrassed enough today.

"I didn't mean that at all Trick." Pete said quickly.

I slowly turned to look at him, jerking my arm out of his grip. 

"Everyone else thinks the same thing, why shouldn't you? I asked flatly, wiping away the tears that fell. 

"I-I don't think that at all Patrick. I'm sorry you have to believe me." Pete said with a pleading look in his eye.

"I do believe you..." I whispered tilting my head up to look straight into his eyes.

"I am fat. I do need to lose weight, a lot of weight actually." I said quietly while rapidly blinking back more tears.

"Please don't talk about yourself like that." Pete said looking at me sadly. 

"Why not?" I asked him shrugging. "Everyone else does, I guess now even you do." I added looking away from him.

"Will you please let me leave now?" I asked in a low voice avoiding eye contact with him.

"Where are you going?" Pete asked so quietly I almost didn't hear him. 

"Away." I replied shortly. 

"When will you be back?" He asked staring at the wall behind me with a strange look on his face. 

"I'm not coming back Pete... I'm done." I whispered biting down hard on my bottom lip. 

His head snapped up and he stared at me. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times before he could reply. 

"What do you mean you're not coming back." Pete asked taking a step closer to me. 

"I need time away, time to fix myself... You guys will do great without me, you'll find someone who can actually sing." I said softly. 

"No we won't do great without you. We can't replace you. You're part of the band and there's no changing that." Pete said.

"There is no Fall Out Boy with out you Patrick." Pete said shakily. 

"You'd be just fine without me. You guys could find someone way better then me. I'm just... I'm just me." I whispered.

"Stop that!" Pete snapped quickly in a demanding but pleading voice. 

"Stop what?" I said taking a step away from him quickly. I hate when he gets mad at me. 

"You're hurting yourself." He whispered raising a hand and brushing his thumb over my lip. He pulled away with blood on his finger. 

I didn't even realize I bit down that hard. 

"There will be a Fall Out Boy without me Pete." I said wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, pretending I didn't see Pete glance at my now blood covered hand. 

"I don't belong here." I said gesturing around me. "I've never fit in with any of this, and everyone knows that!" I said my voice growing louder as I teared up again. 

"You don't know what it's like..." I whispered as a stray tear fell from my eye. 

"You don't know how bad this is, how bad I feel all the time. You don't know what they say..." I said quietly. 

"Patrick shouldn't be in the band he fucking sucks." I mocked looking up at Pete.

"Patrick Stump is packing on the pounds, maybe he should lay off the burgers."

"I bet he has to pay to get someone to sleep with him, he's so disgusting. 

"The world would be better of without you Patrick, Why don't you just kill yourself already?" I said taking in a shaky breath.

I watched a tear fell down Pete face. 

Why is Pete crying? He doesn't care. He told me I need to lose weight, that I'm fat and my voice is shitty. Why am I even telling him this? 

"That's only from a quick glance at my phone earlier." I said taking a step away from him. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Pete asked wiping his cheeks.

I stared at Pete intently for a minute before I answered him. 

"Because you just told me the exact same thing they did..." I whispered turning away from him and walking out the door. 

He didn't follow me this time. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big time skip.

(Patrick's POV)

2 years later.

My life is falling apart, no nevermind, my life has already fallen apart.

My solo album soul punk was a bust. The hate I was getting before the hiatus was nothing compared to what it is now. I can hardly go outside with out someone screaming horrible things at me.

The only thing I have managed to do these past two years is lose weight. I have lost a lot of weight. I picked up a few "bad habits" on the way but it works.

These last two years have been a fucked up cycle of starving myself for weeks sometimes months and then eating everything in sight and throwing it up right after. I'm surprised I'm not dead yet.

I really wouldn't mind if I was.

So that's how I ended up here, on my knees with two fingers down my throat, purging the small bowl of soup I just ate.

Purging liquids hurts. It hurts so fucking bad. The stomach cramps afterwards make me want to curl up in a ball and never move again.

I leaned back on my knees and blindly reached for toilet paper to wipe my face clean.

I flushed to toilet and stood up to face the mirror. I'm not me anymore, I don't know who I am.

My face is hollow and my cheek bones look like they are going to break through my skin.

My stomach is no longer big and round. It's my rib cage being so visible you can count ever rib. It's my hip bones being so sharp that there is a gap between my stomach and my pants.

My thighs don't rub together every time I walk. There only a gap. I worked for a long time to be like this, to be thin.

I finally lost weight, but I don't feel any better. I only feel worse.

I heaved a deep sigh and turned away from the mirror, if I stare to long I will start crying. I always do.

I was about to go lay in my bed and sleep when I heard the door bell ring. I furrowed my brows and walked downstairs.

Nobody ever talks to me, let alone come to my house. So I was a little confused. I was only wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, I hope it's not someone important.

I opened the front door, shocked when I saw Pete, Joe and Andy all standing there, staring at me with wide eyes and shocked faces.

What the actual fuck?

"Can we come in Patrick?" Joe asked quietly smiling softly at me.

"Uh-right. Sorry." I said stepping away from the door to let them in.

We all walked into the living room. I was still really confused to why they were here. It's been two years since I talked to any of them. Two years.

I sat down in a chair across from all of them, who were sitting on the couch.

"What's this all about? Why are you guys here?" I asked hesitantly, not wanting to sound mean. Because being a bossy loud mouth worked so well last time.

"We need to discuss some things." Pete said slowly. "We need to talk about what I said to you Trick." He added. He must have told Andy and Joe.

"It's nothing. Really Pete, it's okay that was two years ago. I'm fine..." I keeping my eyes on the floor.

I'm the farthest thing from fine right now.

"No it's not okay. I was an asshole. You need to yell at me, hit me, I don't know, do something." Pete said running a hand through his hair.

"Yes, it is okay Pete. I was being stupid back then. I deserve everything you said, and I'm not going to hit you." I said looking up at him.

"You didn't deserve that Patrick..." Andy spoke up. "You didn't."

I ignored his comment. I do deserve it.

"Why are you really here?" I asked biting my lip. They wouldn't all come to Chicago just to apologize to me.

None of them answered me.

"You really think I believe you guys came back to Chicago, just to apologize to me for Pete calling me fat and saying I have a shitty voice?" I asked in a tight voice.

Pete flinched.

"Patr-" I cut Pete of before he could finish his sentence.

"What did you really come here for?" I repeated staring at them.

"We were uh-we wanted to start working on some stuff again. Like music stuff." Joe said with a careful look on his face.

Maybe if Fall Out Boy starts up again it would distract me. I could drown myself in the music again, hopefully drown out the horrible thought that run through my head daily.

I don't want to sing. I didn't want to sing in the first place, especially not now. Not after soul punk, not after what happened after Folie à Deux.

My voice though, even if I do sing that could be a problem, I sound worse now then I did before we went on hiatus.

I'm guessing that is from purging everything I eat.

"I don't want to sing anymore..." I said quitely. "I will write music, I will do anything you want other then sing." I added biting the inside of my cheek.

"We can't... I-It's not Fall Out Boy if you don't sing." Pete said softly.

He's the one who told me my voice was shitty...? Now he says I have to sing?

"You could easily find someone else to sing, but I'm not doing it. I don't want to be on a stage, not anymore." I said looking at ground and blinking away my tears before any of them saw.

Jesus Christ, I'm fucked up.

"Is this about what I said..?" Pete asked standing up and walking over to me.

"I swear on everyone I love, I didn't mean a single word of anything I said that night. Not one." Pete said kneeling down and resting a hand on my leg.

"Patrick please, look at me." He added.

I slowly looked up at Pete. He's so close. If I just leaned in I could ki- No, no I can't start this again. I have buried my feelings for years. I'm not changing that anytime soon. He would hate me.

"Please, you can't believe what I said. It wasn't true! You're perfect..." He breathed.

"You are amazing, you have the voice of an angle. You're the sweetest guy I know. You're just... You're just perfect. You always have been and you always will be. You can't let what a few people say get you down Trick..." He whispered. 

"It's not just a few people..." I mumbled. 

"What? I couldn't hear you." Pete said furrowing his eyebrows together. 

"It's not just a few people." I said loudly looking him in the eye, even though I'm aware there's tears in mine. 

"It's everyone, everyone thinks the same thing. Hell even you said the same thing they did." I said letting out a dry laugh.

Everyone thinks I suck, that I'm fat and shouldn't sing. So I'm not going to. I don't need to sing anymore. I don't WANT to sing anymore Pete." I said as a single tear fell down my cheek. 

"I don't want to do this anymore." I said quietly. 

Pete let out a shaky breath and pulled me out of my chair and I ended up on the floor right beside him. 

I grunted at he pulled me into a bone crushing hug. I pushed him away quickly. 

"I-what are you doing?" I asked scooting away form Pete, glancing up to see Andy and Joe have left the room. That's weird. 

I saw hurt flash through his eyes before he quickly hid it. 

"You're -I'm scared." Pete said grabbing my hand. I resisted the overwhelming urge to jerk my hand away. 

"You're scaring me." Pete said softly squeezing my hand. 

I laughed. Pete looked at me wide eyed. 

"You're scared? How could you possibly be scared, this is the first time you have seen me in two years." I said raising an eyebrow at him. 

"You don't know who I am anymore. I don't even know who the fuck I am anymore." I said swallowing the lump in my throat. 

He hesitated before replying. 

"You're right. I don't know who you are anymore, but I do now you're not "fine" Patrick. I know what fine means." Pete said in a gentle voice. 

"I know you not okay. You passed out at one of your shows you were playing." Pete said. 

I forgot about that. That's before I figured out how many calories I needed in my body before a show to be able to stand. That was before I knew how to purge. 

"I was hungover, and on an adrenalin rush. That was nothing but me being irresponsible. I replied confidently. 

"Still you're... Nevermind, just please. Please think about singing again." Pete said. 

"There won't be a Fall Out Boy without you." Pete said softly. "So if you turn this down, it's over. Forever." He added with a sad smile. 

"You don't have to make a decision anytime soon, but please think about it." Pete said slowly standing up. 

"Okay." I whispered. "Okay, I will think about it." I said leaning my head back against the chair and closing my eyes. 

"Thank you." Pete breathed bending down to kiss my cheek. 

I sucked in a sharp breath and snapped my eyes open and looked at him. He is already turned around and is walking towards the door. 

I saw Andy and Joe follow Pete out the door, closing it with a quiet click. 

Pete and I don't kiss. Sure he's kissed me on stage before but it was always a joke. It was something he did for fun. It never happened after we stepped of the stage though. Never. 

So what the hell was that? Why did Pete just kiss me. 

I sat on the floor of my living room for a long time thinking about what I need to do. before I stood up and stumbled to my bedroom. 

I turned the lights of and climbed into my bed. The last though I had before slipping to sleep was a extermly hard choice. 

Do I go back to Fall Out Boy, sing and be miserable, or do I break up the band forever? Then disappoint millions of people all over again.

I finally decied a million lives are worth more then my own. 

After that I drifted into a restless sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and review!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, but there will be a longer one up in a few days.

> (Patrick's POV)

I woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and stomach cramps. What a great way to start the day...

I groaned and rolled over to grasp my cellphone. I need to call Pete and tell him I've decided.

Andy, Pete and Joe have put up with my shit for years. The least I can do is sing for them. I sound like shit, I know I do. I just hope I can do better this time.

I don't want to let anyone else down.

I dialed Pete's number and held the phone to my ear, I'm really nervous about this. What happens if we make another bad album?

"Hello?" Pete's voice came through the speaker.

"Hey... It's Patrick." I said quietly.

"So I uh-I'll do it." I added biting my lip. I already regret this. "It's the least I can do." I said in a whisper.

"Really?" Pete breathed. "Wow, I'm so glad you're coming back, you have no idea." Pete said.

He is right. I have no idea.

"Yeah..." I said. I don't really know what to say.

"Meet me somewhere for lunch?" Pete asked after a few second of silence. "Please. So we can talk, just me and you?" He added in a quiet voice.

"Okay, where at?" I replied softly. I really did miss him. I missed him more then I should have.

"How about the cafe down the street from my apartment?" He asked.

Thats about a 30 minute walk to there from my house. I'll burn some calories on the way.

"Alright, meet you there in 45 minutes?" I replied climbing out of my bed and shuffling go into my closet.

"Sounds good, see you then." He said hanging up the phone.

I pulled on a clean pair of jeans a t-shirt and a sweater. I went to the bathroom and studied myself in the mirror.

My hair is a mess, my skin is a chalky white color and my eyes have dark bags under them.

I sighed and managed to fix my hair, then I splashed some water into my face to bring some color back.

When I finally looked decent enough to go out in public I walked downstairs and grabbed my keys and wallet, then I started walking.

It was a quiet and chilly day. I pulled my sweater a little tighter around my body and stared at the ground.

I hate when it's quiet. I always keep some kind of sound in my house, either the TV or music playing through the speakers. It's never silent.

When I'm in silence my thoughts start to get violent.

Thankfully It didn't get to far because I just walked into the cafe. It's small and private.

I glanced around for Pete and saw him waving me over from a booth in the back corner.

"Hey." He said smiling, then standing up and hugging me. He tensed up a little bit and pulled away frowning.

"Are you alright?" I asked sitting down as Pete slid into the seat across from me.

"Yeah, fine. It's just different now." Pete whispered shaking his head. "You're different." He added quitely.

"It's for the better..." I said softly reaching out and grabbing the cup of water that was infront of me and taking a sip.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Pete asked with a confused look on his face.

"I just... I'm don't want to fuck up the band again. I've screwed up so many things these past few years. I just decided I could try a little harder." I said flatly, staring down at the table.

"Try harder? Try harder to do what?" Pete asked gently with a strange look on his face.

"Fit in I guess." I said shrugging. "Lose some weight, change my attitude. Stuff like that. Hopefully I can do better this time." I said looking up at him.

"I know you won't believe me Patrick, but you're fucking amazing dude. You don't need to change." Pete said. 

"Listen Patrick, I love you okay?" Pete said.

My chest clinched knowing he would never mean that in the same way I do. He would never mean it in anything more then a friendly gesture. 

"I want you to be okay. I want you to be happy doing this again, coming back to the band. Don't it if you don't want to. This isn't more important then your happiness." Pete said in a low voice.

"I don't have anything else to do... Besides I need something to occupy my mind." I said smiling softly. 

"Thank you." Pete breathed grinning widely. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He said smiling. 

"You're and idiot." I said smiling and shaking my head at him. 

"Mmm you know you missed me." Pete said in a sing song voice. 

"I really did." I replied a smile working its way to my lips and I took another sip of my water.

I need to drink a lot of water, I know I will end up purging my lunch today, from now on I have to be careful. I can't let anyone find out about this. 

If I did... They would probably throw me out of the band. I've been alone for two years so I have to figure out how to make excuses for not eating. I have to learn how to purge quietly. 

I have to hide this. 

Nobady can find out how fucked up I really am. So I will just paint a smile on my face and keep going. 

Its not like anyone cares enough to notice anyway. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the hiatus was actually longer, but I cut it short in this story.

(Patrick's POV)

1 week later.

I was had just taken a shower when I got the phone call. Joe had called and asked me if I could come into the studio and record some stuff they had written out and sent me.

How long have they been working together? There's no way they just wrote a couple songs in a few days... They probably just wanted to work without me. I don't blame them.

The drive to the studio wasn't far from my house so now I'm sitting in the parking lot trying to work up the nerves to go back in there.

I sighed and got out of my car. I have to go in at some point right?

I walked silently through the hall until I reached to room we always used. Pete, Joe and Andy are already in there.

"Hey sorry I'm late, I got stuck in traffic." I said quietly. That's a huge lie, I sat in my car preparing myself to walk back into this hell.

"No worries man." Joe said looking me up and down. "I just got here too."

I nodded and glanced around. I really wish we could have at least got a different room. This one holds some bad memories.

"You alright Trick?" Pete said softly with a knowing look in his eye.

"Yeah... Let's just get this done already." I said shaking my head and walking into the recording area.

I have already memorized all the lyrics Pete has sent me, so I got situated and took a deep shaky breath.

"Everything ready?" I asked glancing up at Pete through the glass.

They all sent me a thumbs up I started to sing. I wasn't totally out of practice. I have been singing, it's just my vocal cords don't really handle high notes very well anymore.

My voice is still a little scratchy, I haven't purged all week for the reason that I will be singing.

I haven't eaten anything but a few bowls of fruit the whole week. I'm surprised I haven't passed out yet, then again I have gotten used to the feeling being constantly lightheaded...

I don't even get hunger pains anymore.

I've been singing for awhile and I was doing pretty good until I got to a song called "the Phoenix" that I am trying to record.

There this really long and high note that my voice keeps waivering on. I'm staring to breath a little heavier on the third try and my heart is beating really fast.

The scene that happened a couple years ago is running through my head over and over. This is the same thing that happened then... I can't do this again. I have to make this work. I can't fuck this up, not again.

I rapidly blinked back tears and closed my eyes reaching blindly for that one goddamn note. I missed it again.

"Patrick why don't you take a break, you've been at this for a while." Pete said with a small hesitant smile on his face.

"Thanks." I muttered walking out of the room quickly staring at the ground. At least he didn't yell this time.

I sniffed and realized I'm now crying. Great. I went to the bathroom and shut the door. Now I can cry in private.

I walked over to the sink and bent down to splash cold water on my face. I rested my forearms on both side of the sink and bent my head down between my hands.

I let out a choked sob. Can I not do anything right? I told them I couldn't do this. I can't. I'm bad for everyone, I'm toxic. I make people miserable, I just... I can't do anything right.

I moved my hand to my hair and pulled as I let out another sob. I'm such a pathetic person.

"Fucking stupid..." I whispered.

"Patrick." I heard Pete say quietly behind me.

I shut my mouth abruptly, quieting my cries. I blinked and watched a tear fall into the sink. I turned to water back on and rinsed my face again.

I stood up and looked at Pete, grabbing a paper towel to wipe my face. Pete looked at me with glassy eyes... Was he... Crying?

"So how long have you been standing there?" I said slowly biting the inside of my cheek.

"Long enough..." He said softly talking a hesitant step closer to me.

"Patrick how long have you felt like this?" Pete asked in a shaky voice stepping even closer to me. He's now right in front of me.

"I'm just having a bad day, is all. I'm just tired." I said looking into his eyes, trying to be convincing.

"You know you can talk to me right?" Pete said brushing his knuckles across my cheek bone and frowning.

"Jesus Christ, if you lose anymore weight your gonna fade away." Pete added blinking back his own tears now.

I already am fading away.

"I'll be fine, I just need some time." I said a little awkwardly. That's a lie. I don't think I will ever be fine again.

"Would you tell me if you weren't fine?" Pete asked with his hand still on my cheek.

He doesn't mean anything. This doesn't mean anything to him. I repeated to myself.

I huffed out a small shaky laugh and before I could stop myself I replied.

"No. I wouldn't." I said looking in his eyes. "This is my problem not yours, not anyone else's. So no, I wouldn't tell you." I said, my eyes widing when I realized what I just told him.

"Patrick..." Pete choked out. "Please talk to me."

For some reason that made me mad.

"I did! I tried to talk to you two years ago. I needed help, I needed someone to talk to and you weren't ever there." I said sharply as my voice cracked in the last sentence.

"You were to busy with everyone else. I wanted to talk... I tried to talk to you, but you didn't ever hear me." I said wiping away the tear that fell down my face and stepping away from him.

"So I figured out how to deal with it myself." I said quietly. 

"You don't have to be by yourself anymore..." Pete whispered, wiping a tear away before it could fall. 

"I was selfish and angry. I was a horrible friend and you didn't deserve to be treated the way I treated you. You deserve so much more, I want to start over Trick." Pete said softly. 

I can't start over, not now. I'm to far gone. 

"That's not a good idea Pete. I'm not the same. I'm not-I'm not the same Patrick... I don't know who I am anymore." I said pulling my jacket tighter around my body. 

"Can I please leave? Just for the day." I asked quietly. 

"Of course, I'm not the same either Patrick. I'm not that asshole from two years ago..." Pete said glancing down at the floor. 

"Thanks." I muttered walking past him with my head down. 

I walked to my car and the realization of what I just did hit me like a ton of bricks. I cried in front of Pete. I broke down in a bathroom and cried to my... Best friend? I don't even know if we're friends anymore. 

I drove home in silence that night, the only sound was my mind, a whirlwind of dark thoughts, surrounding me, and I can't seem to keep them away.

   ****************************

Time skip. 

4 weeks later.

I think I've gotten better at hiding everything, or maybe I've gotten better at pushing people away. 

Andy, Joe and especially Pete and been distant. I know it's my fault, I pushed them away, but it doesn't make it hurt any less. 

We have an interview today. Since we made the announcement that Fall Out Boy is back everything has been hectic. We all rode in the same car to some studio on L.A. 

I hate Los Angles. There is nothing but money hungry, fake people here. 

The ride was spent in an uncomfortable silence. I hope they don't act like this when I'm gone. They were close before I came back. 

As soon as we got to the studio I excused myself to the bathroom, the lunch I ate with band was feeling very heavy in my stomach. 

"Patrick, hurry man we're gonna be late." Joe said quickly as the rest of my band mates started to be hustled around by crew members. 

"Yeah, yeah sorry, I won't be long." I said walking quickly to the bathroom. 

I've figured out how to do this quickly and quietly. You get good at something after you've been doing it for a couple years. 

I leaned back on my knees when I finished and wiped my mouth and eyes with toilet paper. 

When I threw the paper into the toilet something caught my eye. 

Red. There's a lot of red. I haven't eaten anything red... 

"Shit..." I breathed staring wide eyed at the water in the toilet. This has never happened before. Not this badly.

I've thrown up blood before, it usually happens after I have been purging multipule time a day for a long time... But this... This is a lot more then normal. 

Well not normal, but... My normal. 

I'm one step closer to dying. I don't know how I feel about that, I don't think I would really care to much if I did die. 

If I'm being honest, I can't say this didn't scare me. This is not how I want to die. I don't want to bleed out on a dirty bathroom floor. 

I took a shuddery breath and stood up. I flushed the toilet and looked in the mirror. I look really bad. My skin is almost translucent and my body... I look like I'm... Like I'm fading.? 

"Patrick, are you okay?" Pete said softly knocking on the door. 

"Oh yeah, sorry." I said opening the door almost running into Pete. 

"No worries. Are you doing alright? You're looking a little pale." Pete said furrowing his brows. 

"I'm fine, just nervous. This is our first interview since we started the band back I'm just scared I'm gonna say the wrong thing." I said laughing and smiling nervously. 

"Oh you'll do great. You did awesome during soul punk." Pete said grinning. 

My smiled faded a little at the mention of my album soul punk. That's when I really started to get bad. My eating problems and the hate I was receiving multiplied. 

"Hey, really dude don't worry." Pete said putting a hand on my shoulder. 

"You'll do awesome." He said giving me a small smile and my shoulder a light squeeze. 

I nodded and we walked to the filming area, only to be met with many people frantically setting filming stuff up. 

"Oh there you two are!" Someone said letting out a sigh of relief. "You have 2 minutes to be on." 

We walked to the couch they had set up and got situated. I was squished in the middle between Joe and Pete. 

"And we're live in 3...2...1..." Some guy said counting down silently using his fingers. 

We all put on big smile and looked at the camera. 

"Hi everybody, my names is Sam and I'm going to be the host for tonight's interview, and here was have Fall Out Boy." She said with a big smile on her face. 

"This is the bands first interview since they announced the hiatus was over. We're very happy they are here." She said shifting in her seat. 

"Thank you for having us." Pete said smiling at him. 

"No problem, thank you for coming." She replied licking her obnoxiously bright red lips. 

"So I'm just going to jump right in and ask the question everyone is dying to know." Sam said keeping her smile firm on her face.

"What caused the band to go on hiatus?" She asked with a genuinely curious look on her face. 

I was an asshole to everyone, and I got so fat that affected my ability to sing correctly. So Pete decided to break the truth to me. 

But of course I wouldn't say that out loud. 

"I think we just needed some time. You know like... We have been a band since Patrick was 17. We Just needed some time to ourselves." Pete said glancing at me. 

"Speaking of Patrick... Wow look at you, you've lost so much weight you look amazing. How did you do it?" The interviewer asked smiling. 

Starving myself and throwing up everything I eat. 

"Well it's mostly portion control. Believe it or not, but it's not that I ate bad, like a lot of junk food, I just over ate. So I just cut back on how much I ate." I said  fidgeting around in my seat nervously. 

Pete gave me a look but I pretended I didn't see him. 

"How much weight have you actually lost?" She asked tilting her head to the side. 

I thought this was a band interview, not a lets talk about Patrick's weight interview. 

"82.5 pounds." I said before I snapped my mouth shut. What normal person knows the exact number of weight they have lost?

Pete sucked in a sharp breath beside me. 

"Wow... That's great. You actually look like a rockstar now." She said grinning. 

Ouch, that one fucking hurt.

I breathed out a weak laugh, staring at the floor.

"Thank you." I said softly.

I glanced at Pete who had his lips pressed into a thin line. What's his problem? 

The rest of the interview dragged on slowly and I only spoke when I was directly addressed. 

"That wraps up our interview! Thank you everybody for watching." Sam said waiving at the camera. 

Finally. 

I stood up quickly and walked backstage. I want to leave. I was almost out the door when I head Pete calling my name. 

"What Pete?" I sighed turning around to face him. 

"Don't listen to was she said Patrick. She was just being obnoxious." Pete said grabbing my hand. 

I jerked my arm back and glanced up at him. He looked hurt. 

"I know, I don't really care." I said pulling another fake smile on my lips. 

"Do you want to go get dinner with us?" Pete asked with a calculating look in his eye. 

"Nah, I'm beat. I just want to go to sleep." I said walking to a cab I saw across the street. 

"Wait! Was that true what you said back there? About how much weight you lost?" Pete asked. 

Of course he wouldn't believe me. I'm still too fat.

"Yeah, I know that's hard to believe but that was true." I said bitterly, climbing into the cab. 

When I was finally dropped off at my house, I went straight upstairs and got into my bed. 

I'm really regretting my decision on coming back to the band. This is already too much for me to handle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was almost a 3,000 word chapter..! Sorry I couldn't stop writing this one!   
> Please comment and review.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter with a cliffhanger ending, but there will be another really long chapter coming soon.

(Patrick's POV) 

4 weeks later. 

It's been two months since the band got back together, and one month since we started our tour for Save Rock and Roll. 

Being packed on a bus with my band mates has been weird, we used to split up, but now we're all together. 

It's been extermly hard to act happy and normal when I'm actually the farthest thing from it.

No one has really noticed anything. I get weird looks when I say I'm not hungry, and I pretend I don't notice Pete's eyes following me when I excuse myself to the bathroom after I eat. 

I guess they don't really care enough to ask. Not that I'm complaining. I've managed to lose a little more weight. 

We have a concert in 30 minutes and I'm standing in my dressing room, in front of the mirror with my shirt pulled up. I bit my lip and ran my hand over my ribcage, I can feel every bone. 

But it's still not enough... I know if I lose much more weight I will die. I know I'm underweight, but I don't see it. I still see fat I need to lose, even if it's not there. What the hell is wrong with me? 

I turned to the side and looked even closer, hipbones are never something that have been visible on my body before, but now... Now my jeans don't rest on stomach. They rest on my sharp hipbones leaving a gap between my stomach and the waist band of my pants. 

I would be lying if I said I didn't get a sick sort of satisfaction from looking like this. Having my bones look like they are breaking through my skin. 

"Hey Patrick!" Pete said breaking me out of my thoughts walking through the door.

"Jesus Christ Pete, ever heard of knocking?" I snapped jerking my shirt down and stepping away from the mirror. 

"I-I'm sorry..." He said with wide eyes and a scared look on his face.

""What were you doing?" He whispered closing the door with a soft click behind him. 

What was I doing? Criticizing myself? I really don't know. 

"I really don't know." I said quietly.

"You-you've-shit"

"What did you need?" I asked cutting him off. We need to get off the topic of me. 

Pete faltered, looking at my confused before replying. 

"The show is going to be a little early tonight, I just came to tell you we go on in about 5 minutes..." Pete said in a shaky voice, before clearing his throat. 

"Oh okay. Well I guess we better get going then." I said grabbing my jacket off the table and slipping it on. 

"We need to talk after the show..." Pete said, his lips pressed into thin lines. 

"Alright?" I said a little hesitantly. 

From then on it was an awkward silence, it wasn't to long though. We were all standing backstage getting ready to go on. 

We have 2 minutes before show time. That's when the dizziness hit me, then a sharp pain ran through my chest. 

I doubled over and choked out a groan putting a hand over my heart. Holy shit it feels like there is a knife in my chest. 

"Patrick!" I heard Pete say sharply. 

I looked up and he was right in front of me. I hate when he gets this close... It just reminds me he doesn't feel the same way I do...

"What's wrong, are you okay?" He asked frantically, waiving away a stage hand that was telling us we need to go on. 

I squeezed my eyes closed my waited for the pain to go away. It's never lasted this long before. 

"Yeah fine." I said standing up straight ignoring my racing heartbeat. "I think I just ate something bad." I said putting on a smile.

Pete didn't look convinced but nodded anyway. 

"Go! You need to go on now!" Someone muttered shoving us out on stage. I stumbled a little bit but I quickly regained myself. 

The concert was going good. Everyone was singing along and having fun. About 30 minutes into the show it when I felt it.

My arm has a weird tingling sensation going through it and the feeling almost made my drop the microphone. 

I tried to ignore how bad I felt and kept singing, but it only got worse. 

About another 20 minutes later I had a weird feeling run through my upper body. It wasn't a sharp pain like before, it was... It was a dull blunt pain, it feels like someone is sitting on my chest. 

I haven't ever felt like this before. To be honest I'm a little scared. 

It's been another 30 minutes and my vision is starting to blur around the edges and it's getting harder to breath. My heart is pounding, I can't get enough air in my lungs.

I'm only aware I've stopped singing when I notice everything is totally silent. No noise. My band mates are looking at me with worried expressions and Pete is walking towards me. 

Everything feels like slow motion, the background noise of people whispering through the venue is fading. I can see Pete's lips moving but I can't hear him.

The last thing I remember before everything went black it Pete, who threw his bass off and ran towards me. 

After that everything is dark and fuzzy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and review. Constructive criticism helps me a lot so if you feel I need to change anything please let me know!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few people requested another long chapter, so this one is about 2,500 words. I hope you all like it!
> 
> This chapter is unedited, I'm sorry in advance for any spelling errors!

(Patrick's POV)

I blinked my eyes open only to quickly squeeze them closed again. It's bright. Everything is so bright.

I opened my eyes slowly and let them adjust just to the blinding light. I glanced around the room and figured out I was in the hospital. It's not that hard to figure out. Especially with tubes and wires connected to my body.

I noticed Pete was asleep on a couch in the room. I don't want to wake him up. I wonder why I'm here?

I've passed out before and I never ended up in the hospital. Maybe I hit my head or something..?

I tried to sit up but I was stopped by the feeling. My whole body feels like I have been run over by a truck. I groaned and leaded back against the bed.

I must have been louder then I thought because Pete sat up quickly and looked at my with a million emotions flashing across his face. "Oh my God." Pete breathed standing up quickly and walking over to me.

"You're awake. They said- you're actually awake? Fuck, I think I'm dreaming." Pete said smacking a hand to his forehead, and tugging his hair sharply.

"Pete stop..." I croaked, I suddenly became aware that there is a tube in the back of my throat.

No. This better not be what I think it is.

I reached my hand up and touched just under my nose. I was greeted by a plastic tube.

They put me on a fucking feeding tube?

Do they know? Did the doctor tell Pete?

"I didn't think you were ever going to wake up." Pete said quietly, glancing away from me.

"You scared the shit out of me Patrick." Pete said turning his head to face me. I noticed he looked a little angry.

"Why the fuck would you do this to yourself?" Pete whispered sharply.

So he does know. Great, now my life is totally ruined. He really does hate me now. Maybe is I ignore him he will go ahead and leave. I don't want him to have to deal with my problems.

I really wish I hadn't woke up. Then I would have to see the look of pure sadness and disappointment on Pete's face.

"Why didn't you ask for help?" Pete asked, the look of anger was gone, only to be replaced with a look of sadness and guilt.

"Because I don't want help. I don't need to drag anyone else down." I said staring at the wall in front of me.

What the point of lying when he knows everything? What's the point of pretending to be happy anymore, what's the point of trying?

"You don't drag anyone else down Trick! Please, talk to me you've been in a coma for 6 weeks-" I cut him off quickly.

"What do you mean 6 weeks?" I asked. I've been in a come for 6 weeks, what happened?

"Patrick..." Pete said slowly before hesitating. "Why was I out so long Pete?" I asked with furrowed brows. He had tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.

"You- you went into heart failure." Pete said as his voice cracked. I stared at him. He can't be serious can he?

"Patrick your heart stopped beating, it was to weak to work anymore. You died!" Pete said wiping away a stray tear before it could fall.

"You had a big tear in your esophagus, the doctor had to surgically repair. He said it was a bad side affect of all the purging." Pete said grabbing my hand.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and contained to look at the wall. He's going to yell at me then leave. Why would he stay in the first place?

"Look at me Patrick." Pete said squeezing my hand. "Please lunchbox... I'm terrified you're going to leave, or this is all some crazy dream and I'm going to wake up and you're going to still be asleep. Please just... Look at me." He said desperately.

Does he actually care? I don't know why he would, I'm noting special, but I still turned to him.

Then I noticed how he looked.

Pete looked... He looked tired, sad. He looked exhausted. Dark circles under his eyes. Is hair was longer and devilish and he looked thinner.

Did I cause this?

"I love you Patrick, and when the doctor told me what you have been doing to yourself... I-Trick I don't know what to say." He choked sitting on the bed beside me.

I don't know what to say either. I'm sorry? I'm sorry that I'm a fucked up mess? I have no idea.

"How long?" He asked after a few moments of silence.

"A- a long time." I replied subconsciously scooting closer to him. He just has this weird affect on me.

"How long?" Pete asked a little louder this time squeezing my hand again.

I bit my lip before replying. Does he really want to know how long I've been doing this?

"A few weeks after the hiatus... It didn't start out bad though, I just cut back on the amount of food I was eating." I said quitely picking at my nails.

"Then everything just got so much worse. I-the first time I threw up on purpose... I laid on the bathroom floor and cried for almost an hour." I added.

"Come on, everything, I need to know everything." Pete said softly. "You can trust me."

"It hurt, for a long time the physical and mental pain was brutal, but after awhile. I just-I was numb. I didn't really care what happened to me, I just wanted to lose weight." I whispered.

Pete breathed in a shaky breath and pulled me closer to him.

"Then it got really bad during and after soul punk... The first time I threw up blood, I wanted to go to the doctor, ask someone for help, but everyone said I looked better, people always complimented me on my weight loss. I though it was better then being called fat." I said, realizing I had silent tears flooding down my face.

"Now it's an addiction. It's an automatic reaction for my body. Reject every calorie before it's digested. I can't stop it Pete..." I choked leaning forward moved my hands to cover my mouth.

"I don't know how." I said pulling my legs up to my chest and pressing my head to my legs and wheezing out a breath.

"Hey, hey Patrick. You have to breath." Pete said scooting up behind me and putting his legs on both sides of my waist and rapping his arms around my chest.

"It's going to be okay. I promise you, it will get better. I know you can't see it right now but everything will be okay." He said resting he's head between my shoulder blades. 

"I'll stay with you or you can stay at my place but I'm not leaving you." Pete whispered. "Not again." He added. I swear I felt his lips brush my back but I must have imagined it. 

He doesn't need to get involved with this. I'm not worth the hassle. I will be just fine by myself. I don't think I can handle living with him... 

What if he finds out I like him... That I like him a lot more then a friend? He would probably laugh at me. 

"I don't... I'll be fine by myself Pete." I said quietly. "I don't need a babysitter." 

"No, you are not fine by yourself, look where being alone got you. The doctor said you really don't need to live alone. He uh- he actually suggested that you go into impatient treatment..." Pete said hesitantly. 

"No." I snapped. "I am fine, I'm not a child, I can take care of myself." I said. 

"Patrick please. I knew you wouldn't ever agree on the impatient thing. That's why I asked if you could stay with me... You're sick, and that's okay. It's okay to ask for help, you don't have to be alone. I can help you." Pete said softly. 

"Please let me help you." Pete said in a shaky voice. 

"If you hadn't of lived Trick... I don't know what I would have done. I probably would have followed you... I don't want to live without you." Pete whispered. I felt a drop of water fall into my shoulder. 

"You've always been there for me. When everyone else gave up on me you always stayed. You always noticed when I was down and every time you cheered me up. I'm so sorry I didn't notice you needed help. I knew there was something wrong, I knew you were struggling, but I didn't say anything, and I will regret that forever." He said laying his head on my shoulder. I can feel his breath on my neck and it makes my heart speed up. 

I can't do this. I can't stay with him, he'll find out. 

"I love you and I don't want you to be alone anymore, I don't want you to hurt anymore. So please come with me." Pete whispered against my neck.

When he pressed his lips to my neck I jerked back and pushed him away. This is to much. I was only aware I was crying when my body started to shake with sobs. 

"Shit... Patrick I'm sorry, I just-I'm sorry." He said scooting back over towards me. 

"Please stop, please, please, please just... Stop." I said between sobs. 

"You'll hate me, you would hate me." I said looking up at Pete, he was staring at me with wide eyes. 

"This is why I can't stay with you! You would hate me, laugh at me and leave again." I whimpered digging my nails into my arms. 

"Jesus Patrick..." Pete whispered. "I told you I'm not leaving. Just tell me what's wrong. I would never laugh at you for anything, let alone hate you." He added.

"I could never hate you." He said a little bit quieter. 

"Yes you would!" I said, noticing that my heart monitor was speeding up and the beeping started to get louder. 

"Patrick calm down. Breath, relax. You can tell me. I'm not going to hate you. I'm not going to laugh or leave you. I promise, I'm here to stay, you can't get rid of me now." Pete said smiling sadly at me and grabbing my hand. 

"I love you." I blurted out, my heart rate picking up again. 

"I love you so much more then a friend. I have loved you since I first saw you. I'm in love you Pete and I have been for a long time." I said quieter, staring at the blanket covering my body. 

I felt Pete hand slip out of mine. My heart clinched. He's gone. He's going to leave now.

"Pete, wait..." I said quickly glancing up at him. I thought I would be greeted my a look of discussed and hatred. Instead I was greet by Pete with a big smile on his face..? 

"Look if you're gonna laugh... Please ju-" I was stopped when Pete put both of his hand on my face and pulled me forward and crushed his lips to mine. 

My eyes widened and I froze for a second before I closed my eyes and kissed back. It probably wasn't a great kiss considering I have a tube taped to my face and my lips are chapped and dry, but I was kissing Pete and Pete was kissing me. 

He brushed his tongue across my bottom lip silently asking for permission. Who would I be to turn that down? It was a sloppy and slow kiss, but it was filled with everything I have ever wanted. Passion, love, forgiveness. It was years of emotions finally being let free. 

We pulled back and Pete rested his forehead against mine, he had his eyes closed and a soft smile on his face. 

"Wow, Holy fuck... Why have I waited so long to do that?" Pete said brushing his thumb over my lower lip.

 "I love you to Patrick. I love you too..." Pete whispered pulling me into a bear hug. We ended up laying on the bed with Pete behind me with his arm over my waist, holding my hand. After about 10 minutes Pete spoke up. 

"You know, I love you too right? I'm surprised to didn't realize, I never really hid it." Pete said softly. "I was just scared to tell you." He added.

"I guess now that I think about it, I realize and the little things you did that nobody else did. I just... You're the definition of 'out of my league' I always though you were trying to make me feel better. Trying to help me feel like part of the group." I said staring at our intertwined hands. 

"I thought it was pity..." I breathed out in a shaky laugh. 

"No, no it was never pity. I love you, I just didn't know how to tell you." Pete said quietly. 

"I love you Patrick Stump and I have loved you for a long time." Pete whispered. 

"I love you too." I breathed. 

"Go back to sleep Trick, we can talk more when you wake up. You need to rest." Pete said pulling the banket over us. 

I could get used to this. Falling asleep beside Pete every night. I just hope I don't wake up and this is all a dream. I don't want to wake up on a bathroom floor beside the toilet all by myself. 

Because this all seems to good to be real. I don't deserve any of this, I don't deserve Pete. 

I drifted into a deep sleep my head resting against Pete's chest listing to the sound of his heart beat. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and review! The next chapter will be up in a couple days.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have written this chapter three times and finally decided I like this version the best. 
> 
> Sorry for the wait! 
> 
> (BTW, I haven't edited this yet. I'm sorry for any spelling errors.)

(Patrick's POV) 

1 day later. 

I'm still in the hospital. I just woke up yesterday so I probably won't be out for awhile. Pete stayed, but we haven't talked much. It's been quiet and Pete seems really nervous.

He's regretting yesterday. 

If you didn't mean anything yesterday... It's okay Pete, I-I inderstand, but please don't stay here out of pity, I don't want that." I said biting into my lip, staring at the white blanket that was covering my body.

"No, fuck... Patrick, I'm sorry if I've been a little weird today. It's just-I love you okay? Like I love you so much more then I have anyone else and I don't want to fuck it up. All my past relationships have crashed and burned and I don't want that to happen with us. I don't want to hurt you again." Pete said standing up and walking over to me. 

"I have been thinking a lot today and I want... I want you to live with me." Pete said resting a hand on my arm. 

My eyes widened. He wants me to live with him? Holy shit... That's... I don't even know what to say. 

"Please Trick, You-you can't be alone. Not after what happened last time." Pete said softly. "Not after this." He added gesturing around us to the hospital room.

I was only working on being better for everyone. Sure I skipped a few meals and threw up a couple times, but I'm not that sick, it's just a bad habit. I'm thinner now, I still have more weight to lose but I'm smaller. It's better for everyone, the band, it's better for Pete. 

"I'll be okay on my own Pete. I'm not even sick. I don't want you to deal with my problems." I said in a small voice. 

"Not sick..? Patrick-you-you fucking died!  Your. Heart. Stopped." Pete said his voice raising. I flinched a little bit. I hate when he yells. 

"You have been starving yourself and puking up the small amounts that you do eat. You are sick! Do you not care that you died? Don't even tell me you can take care of yourself... Look where you ended up." Pete said his lips pressed into thing lines. 

Ouch. That one hurt, and made me angry.

"Did it ever occur to you that I don't care? I don't care if I fucking die or not. I would much rather be dead then living like this! You don't understand how much shit I've been through..." I said my chest rapidly rising and falling, as I blinked back tears. 

I'm not going to cry. 

"I don't want to live anymore. I do want to die, but I'm to much of a coward to speed up the process. So 'starving' myself seems like a good start." I snapped, wheezing in a breath of air. 

"I have nobody Pete. Everyone left me, forgot all about me, he'll even you did. You called me fat and said I was shitty. So here Pete." I said gesturing to myself. 

"Am I good enough yet?" I said pulling my knees up to my chest, trying desperately to keep my sobs away. 

"Did I lose enough goddamn weight yet?" I asked letting out a shuddery cry and resting my head on my knees. My attempts of keeping my tears to myself were forgotten as I sat on my bed and cried. 

"Patrick." I heard Pete say, I ignored his and continued to cry and drown myself in self-hatred. 

"Patrick Stump, look at me right fucking now." Pete said in a sharp voice. 

I lifted my head up and wiped my eyes before turning to him. Pete has huge tears falling down his face at a rapid pace and is now digging his nails into his skin so hard I can see blood. 

"Stop." I mumbled grabbing his hand and pulling at away. 

"I swear on my sons life, I swear on everyone and everything I have ever loved that I didn't mean anything I said that day. You don't deserve what I did to you, you don't deserve to be huring and laying in this hospital bed. It should be me in the hospital not you. You're too perfect for this shit. You will never be anything other then perfect in my eyes. I was drunk that night Trick and I hadn't slept in 3 days... I know that doesn't give me an excuse for what I said, but I promise you..." Pete said pausing to wipe his face and grab both my hands. 

"I promise that I love you. I promise I didn't mean anything I said and I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you. I want to try this again Patrick. I know you're not happy right now, but I'm not going to leave you, never again. I want to help you, I'll help you recover, it's going to be hard and there will be relapses, but Patrick. I love you and I will stay with you. You have my word." Pete said squeezing his eyes closed as another tearr fell down his face. 

"This will all get better." Pete said brushing his thumb over my knuckle. 

"Just let me help you. Come stay with me. I swear I'll make it up to you, in anyway possible. Just please, I don't-I can't stand to see you like this anymore." Pete said shuffling up onto the bed with me and pulling me into a hug. 

How the fuck do I say no? There's not way he's lying, even the fucked up part of my brain is agreeing that Pete is telling the truth. He loves me. 

Pete Wentz actually loves me. 

"Yeah. Yeah I'll stay with you." I said softly leaning back and resting head on Pete's shoulder. 

"Thank you." Pete breathed kissing to top of my head. 

Well since we're on the topic of telling the truth. Why not tell everything. 

"Pete..." I whispered after a few minutes of comfortable silence. 

"Hmm?" He hummed running a hand through my hair. 

"I-It's- I don't know how to say this." I said hesitently. 

"No more secrets. You can tell me anything." He said quitely. 

"I'm still not happy." I blurted out staring at the white hospital walls. 

"I'm glad we worked out our shit and everything, and we're together now, but Pete. I don't-I'm not magically better. I'm sorry." I said hoping he's not offended or upset by what I just said.

"It's okay Patrick. I know, I understand. You're taking to me. I'm the one who swallowed a bottle of Ativan... I understand you're not going to get better overnight. Recovery is extermly hard. I'm not going to pretend I know what it's like to have an eating disorder..." Pete said still running his hands through my hair, which it strangely relaxing. 

It still didn't stop me from flinching when he mentioned eating disorders. 

"But I know about wanting to die. I know what it's like to have those thoughts swimming through your head constantly, and that's not something I ever wanted you to experience." Pete said sniffing. 

"It'll get better though. I know everyone says that shit, but it really does. I'm living proof. I will be with you every step of the way, but I need you to talk to me. You have to tell me what you're thinking, we can't push each other away, you have to tell me about all the bad thoughts that you have. We have to communicate. We can't... I can't lose you." Pete whispered his hand that was on my waist tighting ever so slightly, almost like he was checking to make sure I was still here. 

"I want-I want to get better." I said quietly. And for the first time I actually meant it. I really do want to recover.

"I can't keep living like this. I don't want to. I'm tired of being scared of food, I want to be me again... But I don't know how to do that. I've been like this for so long it's hard to imagine me any other way. I've spent the last two years on my knees, infront of a toilet with my fingers down my throat or staring into my empty refrigerator, and I don't want to do that anymore." I said in a stronger voice then before. 

"I'm going to get better." I said. 

"You're going to get better." Pete echoed and rested his head on top of mine and breathed out a deep breath. 

"And I'll be with you every step of the way." He added in a quieter voice. 

After that I closed me eyes and drifted into a peaceful sleep for the first time in a long time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was an intense chapter to write. This story has been super angsty and from now on its going to be happier. 
> 
> Patrick doesn't get better overnight, there will be a lot of struggles but this story will have a happy ending. 
> 
> I hope you guys like this. Comment and review!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this update took so long! I have been writing non-stop with my other story! 
> 
> But I'm back and I'm definitely going to finish this story. 
> 
> This chapter is Un-edited, so please excuse any mistakes!

(Patrick's POV)  

2 weeks later 

It's been two weeks, I spent two weeks in the hospital, well eight weeks total but I've only been awake for two.

I've constantly been having calorie filled liquid pumped into my stomch, but I'm finally 'stable enough' to go home.  Well to Pete's home, which I guess is now mine also.

I watched Pete fumbling with his keys in the dark as the he tried to find the right one for his house.

"Fucking finally." He muttered when he pushed to door open. I sniggered and walked in the house dropping my bag by the door.

Pete and I stopped by my house to grab some clothes and a couple other things. It's weird knowing that I'm with Pete, living with him. Sure we've toured together and stayed on the same bus but this just feels... Different.  

"Well it's getting late we should probably get to bed." Pete said smiling and stepping forward and kissing my forehead.

I watched him as he walked upstairs to his bedroom. I soon picked up my bag and followed him going across the hall to the guest bedroom. I shut the door quietly and went straight to the bathroom.

I turned towards the mirror and pulled my shirt off, lifting my eyes back up to the mirror.  I gained weight while I was in the hospital. How could I not? If I ate without complaining I could get out of there faster.

My stomach has filled out, not round or protruding but it's definitely not concave anymore. My thighs have filled out and now brush together slightly, but my ribcage is still prominent as ever.

Why do I have to think like this? Why is my brain so fucked up?  

What has my life turned into? 

I sighed and pushed my shirt back down and started brushing my teeth, when I was done I went back into my room, changed into my pajamas and got in bed.

I tossed and turned for what seemed like hours, I'm extremely tired but I can't seem to get any sleep. I glance over at the clock and see its 2:37am, I've been laying in here for over two hours.

I sigh and roll out of bed, quitely walked across the hall to Pete's room, anxiety bubbling in my stomach. Would he care if I slept with him tonight?

I pushed his bedroom door open slowly and realized his lamp was on and Pete was awake, just laying on his back staring unblinking at the celling.

Pete's never been able to go the sleep easily. 

"Hey, everything okay?" Pete asked softly, looking over and me.

"Yeah... I just can't sleep, my brain won't seem to turn off tonight." I replied walking into his room as he nodded understandingly.

"Do you mind if I uh-if I sleep in here?" I asked looking anywhere but Pete's face. Why the hell am I so nervous? It's not like we haven't slept in the same bed before.

"No not at all." Pete said smiling slightly at me. "Make yourself comfortable."

I walked to the end of the bed and crawled up to the top flopping down beside Pete.

Pete and I just laid there flat on our backs not saying anything, not touching, just enjoying each others company.

I turned my head to look at Pete, who was staring at me intently.

"What?" I asked, furrowing my brows feeling extremely self-conscious under his non wavering gaze.

"Nothing, you just... You're fucking beautiful." Pete said rolling over on his side to face me.

Why does he see in me?

"Pete..." I whispered. "What-why do you think that?" I asked quitely, genuinely curious. Because I have no clue what he finds attractive about me.

"How could I not?" He replied sitting up and staring down at me.

"You look like... Fuck I don't even know how to describe it. You look like an angel. You have the personally of an angel also. Don't even get me started on your voice Patrick... I could listen to it for days." Pete said moving to straddle my waist.

"What are you doing?" I asked when his hands reached for the hem of my shirt.

"Just trust me okay?" Pete said smiling sadly at me.

I hesitated before nodding my head. I closed my eyes and swallowed to lump in my throat as Pete pulled my shirt off along with his.

Even though it may seem like it. There is absolutely nothing sexual about this.

"This." Pete said running his rand over my prominent rib cage. "Is not normal Patrick."

I kept my eyes closed, so he couldn't see the embarrassment in them.

"Look." He said. "Open your eyes?" He asked grabbing my hand.

I opened my eye and the only thing I saw was Pete. I didn't dare look down at my body, knowing it will only make everything worse.

"Do you see this?" Pete asked gesturing to his stomach. "Would you call me fat?"

"No never. You're not fat Pete, not at all." I said looking up at him confused. What is he doing?

"Patrick... Look at the difference between our bodies. Look how much bigger I am then you. I know you don't see yourself the same as I see you, but this is your proof. You're tiny Patrick, you're skin and bones. I love you no matter what you look like." Pete whispered, bending down and kissing my forehead.

"But you're sick Patrick and I can't stand around and watch you die, not again. Please you have to let someone help you. Me, a doctor, maybe even go to therapy a few times." Pete said quietly.

I just stared up at him. His words finally getting to me. If I get help, go to a doctor or something, I wouldn't have to live like this. Constantly hating myself.

"I only want what's best for you and right now what best is for you to talk to someone. You can beat this Patrick. This disease won't define who you are, you will win this fight, and I'll be cheering you on the whole time." He said smiling at me.

"Tomorrow." I whispered. "Tomorrow I will call the number the hospital gave me for the therapist. I'll try. I really will try this time." I told Pete.

I really will. I'm tired to doing this, of constantly feeling like shit. I actually died. My heart stopped. I thought I was the one in control but I'm not. This sickness, this disease... Has taken over my body and my mind, and I'm not going to let it win.

"I will win this." I said quietly, as Pete laid back down beside me and wrapped his arm around my shirtless waist.

"That's right, you will." Pete said grinning at me before leaning in and kissing my cheek.

I still don't really feel like sleeping but I closed my eyes and rested my head on Pete shoulder, he reached over and flipped the switch on his lamp, turning it off.

"Patrick?" Pete asked after a few minutes of silence and him running his hand through my hair.

"Yeah?" I replied yawning, finally growing tired.

"Will you be my boyfriend?" Pete rushed out quickly, I could feel him tense up.

Does he really need to ask? I've loved Pete for years, he's my best friend, we may fight, sometimes worse the other times but I wouldn't want anyone else in my life.

Then I realized Pete couldn't read my thoughts and was still laying rigid awaiting for my response.

"Yeah, I would love that." I replied turning my head up in a painfully awakard position so I could see him.

Pete has a huge smile spread over his face and he lifted his head and kissed me lightly.

"Goodnight Trick." He said pulling the duvet over us.

"Night." I replied quietly as my eyes slipped closed.

* * *

 

The next morning....

"Ow, fucking hell!" Pete yelled pulling me out of my sleep making me jump off the bed quickly.

I looked over at Pete who was holding onto the door frame with one and holding his foot in the other.

"Dear God Pete what did you do?" I asked walking over to him.

"I stubbed my stupid toe on the door." He replied, grimacing slightly.

I stared at him for a minute biting my lip before I bursted out laughing. 

"Hey it's not funny." He whined like a child. "It hurts." 

"I missed your clumsy ass." I said smiling at him as he dropped his foot and stood up straight. 

"You're gonna get it Stump." Pete said grinning and picking me up and throwing me on the bed. 

"This is your idea of punishment?" I asked him with a smirk on my face as Pete pinned my arms above my head and straddled my waist. 

Pete just grinned like a mad man and started to tackle me. 

"Oh God." I gasped out between laughes trying to free my hands from Pete's vice like grip.

"Come on, have mercy!" I said laughing so hard I could hardly understand the words that came out of my mouth. 

Pete paused for a second to let me catch my breath before barking out a laugh and tickling me again. 

"P-Peter Wentz if you don't stop I'm never going to kiss you again." I said, clearly lying but he didn't need to know that. 

He stopped and raised his eyebrows at me. 

"Yeah, sure." Pete said sarcastically, bending down so he's only a couple inches from my face. 

"You love me too much." He said smiling.

"I guess you're right, I couldn't keep that promise." I replied moving a hand to the back of Pete hair and pulling him in for a kiss. 

Pete complied and moved one of his hands to the back of my neck pulling me up a bit and the other was tracing patterns on my stomach. 

Before things got to heated Pete pulled back with a big smirk on his face. 

"Well I hate to ruin the moment but it's 11:30, we missed breakfast and I'm hungry." He said climbing off me. 

Oh right. I have to eat now. 

"It's okay, something light this morning." Pete said sensing my mixed feeling about food, brushing a peice of hair out of my eye and pulling me off the bed and towards the door. 

Okay, okay wait, I'm coming." I said putting my shirt on and following the still shirtless Pete downstairs to the kitchen. 

We ended up making a turkey and avocado BLT's. That's definitely not my definition of 'something light' but I ate and didn't throw it up. 

I felt a little better looking up and seeing the encouraging smile on Pete's face. He's the reason I need to do this, I need to recover and be healthy. I finally have Pete and I don't want to screw it up. 

We spent the rest of the day watching movies and messing around the house, just like old times, just Pete and I. 

I did call the therapist, just like I said I would. I scheduled an appointment for later in the week, Pete sat beside me holding my hand smiling at me the whole time.

That night when I laid down in the bed beside Pete I realized I didn't count a single calorie I put into my body today. 

I have hope now. I really do believe I can win this fight against myself, and that's the hardest part. 

I'm fighting a war against myself, and right now... I'm putting up a damn good fight, if I do say so myself. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like that fluffy tickling scene in the bedroom was so necessary, this story has been all angst and its time to make it a little happier! 
> 
> Yay! 
> 
> This is not the end of the angst though, just a temporary ending. There will be relapse, and struggles in their relationship but there will be a happy ending.


End file.
